


All In Bright Brass Gleaming

by Doctopus



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Neglect, Season 10 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1526531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctopus/pseuds/Doctopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Carolina had made a different choice in the bunker?</p>
            </blockquote>





	All In Bright Brass Gleaming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eponymous_rose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponymous_rose/gifts).



> This is entirely Eponymous-Rose's fault. She knows what she did.

She still couldn't say why she did it. Not to anyone else. If asked, she'd deny. If pressed, she'd push back. If forced, she'd lie. She'd take her secrets to the grave.

In that dark little room, there had been clarity. A cool collected sensation, sharp and focused. She'd felt it on the side of a cliff, years ago, hearing herself choke down screams while snow piled on her armor, sticky blood coagulating on her neck, where Maine had torn out Eta and Iota. Running the probabilities and figuring out the angles, the plan already being built on some level, even as she'd raged and sobbed and cursed into the icy air.

It had been years, back and forth. Modifying the plan, thinking and rethinking and choosing options. She couldn't claim to be some brilliant strategist, or a master of the human psyche. She'd done what she'd always done. Weighed outcomes and made choices, no matter how unthinkable. She supposed they were a lot alike, in that way. Maybe it was why he'd done what he did.

Maybe he'd had nights where he'd just regretted it all too.

She could still hear Epsilon ranting, one hand moving to her hip, popping out the magazine on her magnum. Eleven in the magazine, flicked into a pocket with her thumb, silent as the litany of crimes was read out. She slid the final round out of the chamber without a sound.

"...He needs to pay."

He'd been pitiful, cold, as she'd kissed his forehead. He'd never been physically strong. Living like this, how long would it be before he simply passed from starvation, clinging to the past. She didn't need vengeance. This would be over even if she hadn't shown up.

A lack of need didn't mean a lack of want.

"Come on, Church. We're leaving."

More anger. She said something placating, to get him to come along. Endgame. Turning to go, counting the seconds-

"Agent Carolina?"

She paused, options spiraling out before her. There was still time to reverse this. Undo what she was about to do. "Yes, Director?"

"Would you be so kind as to leave me your pistol?"

She took it out, empty. He wasn't a military man. He'd never served. Doubtless he wouldn't realize what the lightness meant until after the fact. Until she was gone.

She'd been the tactician. It was a game of prediction, analysis of the situation and the enemy, figuring out what they'd do in a given situation. The more intel you had, the more you knew about your enemy, the more efficient you could make the plan. She knew him about as well as anyone. Years of isolated contact, and then studying the mirror of Epsilon, noting the self loathing, the desire to just _end_ this whole thing.

"Thank you, Carolina."

She felt the choices narrow down to zero as she walked out. 

"Goodbye, sir."

The facility shut down, as they left, air filtration spooling off as the lights dimmed. A part of her was already picturing the scene, a dark room and a man with an empty gun. He'd always said any outcome was preferable to extinction. He'd try, fail, and sit in that blackness, wheezing as the air ran out, death by asphyxiation. She should have felt sick, picturing it, but only felt numb. Horror would come later, when she was alone and old regrets came in to roost. It wasn't as if she didn't already have enough nightmares crowding her head. This would just be another reason to stay awake. She was certain she could live with it.

The next night, panting and shaking, sweat beading her skin and bile in her throat, she threw the bullets into a river and beat a tree until her fists bled.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this turned out shorter than initially planned. Still, had to write it out.
> 
> Comment below!


End file.
